


Chicken Soup and Lullabies

by Elle82



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Age Play, Diapers, Feeding, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Pacifiers, Punishment, bottle feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 04:07:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4549788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elle82/pseuds/Elle82
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a tumblr prompt: Daddy Hannibal taking care of a sick Little Will spoon feeding him chicken noodle soup and rocking him to sleep with soothing lullabies. </p><p>(I've added evil Uncle Frederick, because he's fun to write!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chicken Soup and Lullabies

**Author's Note:**

> This is ageplay - all consenting adults, some playing younger than their biological ages. I don’t own the painting mentioned or the or the lullaby Hannibal sings. Please don't sue me!
> 
> Prompts for fic (ageplay or not) always welcome - hit me up in the comments or come say hey on tumblr: puppyxtraining :)
> 
> Should also preface this by saying Will and Hannibal are in an established adult relationship in this 'verse, but also act as little and caregiver from time to time :) Read my other fics, and those of telera, anislandcalledcalifornia and trr_rr for context :)

Hannibal looked down at his watch. Frederick sat opposite him, shifting impatiently in his seat, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass.

“I’m sorry Frederick, Will usually calls if he’s going to be this late.”

Frederick picked a grape off the centerpiece and popped it in his mouth.

“Kind of rude, don’t you think?”

He smirked. Hannibal’s eye twitched and he got up from the table.

“Excuse me.”

Hannibal pulled his phone out of his inside breast pocket and had just dialed Will’s number when he heard the front door slam. It was followed by a hacking cough and a sneeze. Hannibal walked through to the front hall.

“Will?”

“Hey.”

Hannibal looked down at his watch and before he had time to state the obvious, Will threw his bag down by the table in the hall, tossing his keys on the tabletop.

“I know, I know. I’m late.”

“You are. Is there anything wrong?”

Will rubbed his hands over his face.

“Just…Jack. He’s pulling me in a million different directions.”

Hannibal moved forward and put his hands on the sides of Will’s face.

“If that is the case, then you must pull back.”

Will sighed, closed his eyes. Hannibal’s cool hands felt so good.

“It’s not always easy.”

“I know.”

Hannibal’s hand brushed the curls off his forehead and he was about to comment how warm Will felt when his eyes flicked open and he looked down towards the dining room.

“Is there someone here?”

“Frederick. We arranged dinner. I do recall telling you.”

Will sighed. The last thing he felt like tonight was company. The last thing he felt like most nights was Frederick Chilton as company.

Will could feel a whine forming in his throat. He just wanted to go to bed. Maybe have his daddy look after him.

“Do we have to?”

“Now Will. We wouldn’t want to be rude, would we?”

Will sighed again, rubbed his eyes and ducked his head.

“No. Suppose not.”

Hannibal put his arm around Will’s shoulders and they walked into the dining room. Hannibal continued on to the kitchen to get the entrée.  

Frederick barely looked up when Will walked in.

“About time, Will. I’m starving.”

“Apologies, Frederick.”

Will wasn’t sorry though. It was said through gritted teeth. Frederick took a swig of wine.

“If I were Hannibal, I’d put you over my knee and spank your ass raw for being so late.”

“Well you’re not Hannibal and you don’t know how often I thank my lucky stars for that.”

Frederick smirked. Will took a sip of the wine that had been set out for him. It burned his throat.

“No sippy cup tonight, Willy?”

Will sighed.

“What do you think, Frederick?”

“I think you’re being quite rude. Not sure Hannibal’d be very impressed.”

“I don’t really care.”

Will gulped down the rest of the wine just as Hannibal returned. He frowned at Will’s empty glass and put the plates down.

“Figs wrapped in prosciutto with local honey and goats cheese. Everything alright here?”

Before Will could say anything, Frederick beat him to it.

“Just fine thanks Hannibal. This looks delicious.”

Will rolled his eyes, a gesture that was not lost on Hannibal, and reached across for the bottle of wine. He poured himself another glass, practically to the rim.

“Do you want some water Will?”

Will took a gulp of wine and shook his head.

“No.”

“No _thankyou.”_

Frederick smirked at Hannibal’s correction. Will blushed and murmured the repetition under his breath.

Will ate quickly, shoveling the food in his mouth. His head pounded, he wanted to finish his dinner, take a shower and go to bed. Hannibal cleared the entrée plates and Will made a motion to stand.

“Do you need a hand?”

“Thank you Will, but no. Keep our guest company. I will be back momentarily with the main course.”

Hannibal also took Will’s wine glass, which was just about empty.

When Hannibal was gone, Frederick saw this as his opportunity. He sipped his wine, holding the glass up.

“How’s work Will?”

Will shrugged. There was something about Frederick that just brought out insolence in him. He completely understood why Matthew always seemed to be in trouble with him.

“That Jack sure knows how to pick them. First the Lass girl, then you. I guess he likes them soft and pliable.”

Frederick stood and went to look at the painting that hung above the fireplace. Will smirked.

“How ‘bout you, Frederick? How’re things at the hospital? Any interesting private conversations you’ve had the pleasure of overhearing?”

His eyes narrowed, his features sharpened. He looked back at the painting, pointed at it.

“This is an original Maud Earl. Did you know that?”

Will shook his head. It was a new painting of three dogs. Hannibal had bought it not long ago as a gift for him. Will didn’t know much about art but he did know Hannibal and figured it probably wasn’t cheap.

“You’ve done well. Way above your station. Not bad for a poor redneck bastard from Louisiana.”

“Oh fuck you Frederick.”

At that exact moment, Hannibal came in, carrying a platter with a whole baked fish on it. He stopped at the doorway.

“Excuse me Will?”

Frederick feigned a look of innocence.

“Did you hear what he just said? I was merely remarking on your new painting.”

“Oh shut up Frederick. Enough with the lies.”

“Will! That is no way to speak to our guest.”

“I’m not little, Hannibal, don’t tell me what to do.”

“I realise you’re not little Will. Regardless, we are never rude to our guests.”

“Frederick isn’t a guest. He’s an asshole.”

Hannibal placed the platter on the table and stood in front of Will.

“Please apologise Will.”

“I’m not apologising to him.”

“Apologise to our guest.”

Will could see Frederick smirking out of the corner of his eye. He was loving every minute of it.

“No.”

“Very well. Go and wait in the study. On the chair, in the corner.”

Will huffed and blushed.

“Fine. Whatever.”

Will walked down the hall, embarrassed and angry, and slightly tipsy. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast and the wine sat hot and acidic in his stomach.

When he reached the study, he went to the small wooden char in the far corner of the room. It was little Will’s naughty chair, hard and uncomfortable. Before he sat, he thought about defying Hannibal. But, instead he removed his jacket and sat quietly, hunched over, waiting.

…

Hannibal and Frederick finished off their dinner, Frederick asking for seconds as he knew it would prolong Will’s punishment, alone in the study. He wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Well Hannibal, that was delicious as usual. Shame Will couldn’t enjoy it with us.”

Hannibal drained the last of his wine.

“Yes, it is. He is not prone to outbursts like that. Not lately.”

Frederick licked his lips, anticipating dessert.

“Maybe he’s itching for punishment.”

“Maybe. Would you mind if I sent you off with dessert to go? Please don’t think I’m being rude, you’ve had enough of that tonight. But perhaps I’d better see to Will.”

Frederick shrugged and put his napkin on the table.

“No skin off my nose.”

…

Once Frederick had left, not before loudly announcing in the hallway outside the study how much he was looking forward to dessert, Hannibal cleared the table and did the dishes.

When he was done, he took off his suit jacket and walked through to the study. Will was sitting on the chair, still facing the corner. He could have defied Hannibal, gone upstairs and gone to bed. But no. He had obeyed.

Hannibal approached and put his hand on Will’s shoulder. When Will looked up, Hannibal saw his face flushed red and wet with sweat, or tears. Damp curls clung to his forehead.

Hannibal frowned.

“Are you sick Will?”

He shrugged, sniffled. As soon as he did it, he felt pathetic and small.

“Is that why you were rude?”

Will shrugged again. His throat hurt.

Hannibal put his hand on Will’s forehead.

“You’re burning up Will. Why didn’t you say something earlier?”

He put his hand on Will’s arm, helping him to stand.

“Didn’t want to interrupt, daddy.”

Hannibal gathered Will close and pressed a kiss to Will’s cheek.

“My poor darling. Come, let’s get you into a bath then into some pyjamas. Have you eaten today?”

The thought of the bathing and the pyjamas sounded so warm and comforting, Will began to regress fast and stuck his thumb in his mouth. He shook his head as Hannibal grabbed his other hand and led him upstairs.

“Tsk-tsk Will. You know you need to eat during the day. You don’t need daddy reminding you when to eat. Or maybe you do.”

“Sorry daddy.”

Hannibal began to fill the bathtub and then stripped Will of his clothing, noticing when he shivered slightly. He helped Will into the bath, adding some lavender oil and some of Will’s toys.

Will sniffed a little and played half-heartedly with the toys as Hannibal ran a washcloth over his body.

“When did you start feeling sick, darling?”

Will shrugged, pushing a toy shark through the water. Hannibal gently pried the thumb from his mouth and washed his hand with the washcloth.

“Was it this morning?”

Will shook his head.

“This afternoon?”

Another shake of the head.

“Yesterday?”

“Day before, daddy.”

Now it was Hannibal’s turn to sigh. He helped Will stand and drained the tub, wrapping a towel around him.

“Will darling, what did daddy say to do when you feel sick?”

“That I have to tell you. Straight away.”

“That’s right.”

He took Will into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. He gathered little Will’s pyjamas and a diaper from the chest of drawers. Will didn’t protest, but just lay down on the bed, docile.

Hannibal dusted Will’s groin with some baby powder and taped the diaper on, dressing him in the soft warm pyjamas. He pulled the covers back and Will climbed under.

“Stay warm, dear boy. I’ll go and fetch you some dinner. Then we can talk about what happened earlier.”

Will nodded. Hannibal went to his room and fetched Mr Bear, a picture book and one of Will’s pacifiers. He handed them to Will then went downstairs.

He returned with a bowl of hot homemade chicken noodle soup, a sippy cup of juice that he had crushed an aspirin into and a bottle of milk. Will had the pacifier in his mouth and was showing the pictures to Mr Bear.

Hannibal placed a clean tea towel down on the bed and set the tray on top of it.  He sat facing Will and fastened a bib around his neck, then passed him the sippy cup.

“Drink some juice Will. I want to take your temperature.”

Will took his pacifier out and drank while Hannibal went to the bathroom to get the digital thermometer. He placed it in Will’s ear. The reading came back at 100.5 degrees. The aspirin would help, Hannibal surmised.

He sat on the bed facing Will, picking up the bowl of soup. He dipped the spoon in, blew on it and touched it to his tongue. Satisfied that it was not too hot, he held it up to Will’s lips, his hand under Will’s chin as he tipped it into his mouth.

Will swallowed, the warm liquid soothing his throat. He moaned a little.

“Is that good darling?”

“Yes daddy.”

Hannibal fed him a few more spoonfuls, blowing on each one before he fed it to Will, pausing a few times to wipe a few stray drops from Will’s chin with the bib. 

“Do you want to tell me what made you so mad at Uncle Frederick.”

Will shook his head. At the mention of Frederick, his eyes watered.

“I know your Uncle can be… different to daddy sometimes. He is not as careful with his words. But you mustn’t take what he says to heart.”

Will ate more soup. The warmth made him feel drowsy as it settled in his stomach.

“He…he called me a bad word, daddy.”

“Oh?”

Will nodded. Hannibal fed him the remaining soup.

“He called me the ‘b’ word.”

Will whispered the last part. A lone tear ran down his cheek. Hannibal put the bowl down and wiped the tear away with the bib and kissed the track that it had left on Will’s cheek.

“Pay him no mind, dear boy.  He was rude. I shouldn’t have punished you. I’m sorry Will.”

He shrugged and held Mr Bear close under his arm. Hannibal stroked Will’s forehead.

“’s okay daddy. I was rude.”

Hannibal smiled.

“You can sleep in here with me tonight.”

For the first time all night, Will gave a small, shy smile.

“Really? Mr Bear too?”

“Yes, Mr Bear too. Now, how about some milk before bedtime, hm?”

Will nodded and scootched down in the bed while Hannibal moved the tray to the chaise at the end of the bed, picking up the bottle of milk. He removed his shoes and lay down, his arm around Will as he pulled him close.

Will nuzzled into his chest as Hannibal held the nipple to his lips and smiled as he latched on and began to suck.

He made soft, satisfied noises as he drank the milk, closing his eyes and rubbing his face into Hannibal’s shirt.

After about a minute, Will pulled away.

“What’s wrong darling?”

“Sing to me daddy?”

Hannibal smiled and kissed the top of Will’s head.

“Alright. Close your eyes darling. And I’ll sing.”

Will resumed drinking as Hannibal sang, soft and melodiously.

_Baby mine, don't you cry._  
_Baby mine, dry your eyes._  
_Rest your head, close to my heart,_  
_Never to part, baby of mine._  
  
_Little one, when you play,_  
_Pay no heed, what they say._  
_Let your eyes sparkle and shine,_  
_Never a tear, baby of mine._  
  
_If they knew all about you,_  
_They'd end up loving you too._  
_All those same people who scold you,_  
_What they'd give just for the right to hold you._  
  
_From your head down to your toes,_  
_You're not much, goodness knows._  
_But, you're so precious to me,_  
_Sweet as can be, baby of mine._

By the time Hannibal had finished, Will was fast asleep, still sucking on the empty bottle. Hannibal replaced it with the pacifier and gently slipped out from under Will’s form. A small frown appeared on his face, but Hannibal wrapped Will’s arms around Mr Bear and he settled again.

He covered him with the quilt and took the tray downstairs, thinking of the ways in which to punish Frederick for upsetting his boy. When he had thought of one, he smiled, turned the lights out and headed back upstairs to his darling boy.


End file.
